Easy, Hard as it Looks
by The Peninsula
Summary: Edward is believed to be schizophrenic. He sees something no one else sees. When Edward has no one else will Bella finally see? B x E
1. Chapter 1

**Edward**

He was still standing there. I shut my eyes and prayed that his long shadow, creeping into the hallway would be gone when I reopened my eyes

_Please God, Allah, whoever…_

No such luck.

"Mam…" I hated the way that my voice shook, and the way her face crumpled from the disappointment as her back shrugged even further into her seat. She seemed so defeated. I did this to her. I aged her far beyond her years.

My mother had once been the perfect doctor's wife; beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate. She was now a shell of her former being.

From her chair by the window in our small semi detached home I saw her slowly turn to look up at me. The chair creaked as she adjusted her weight to pull her full height. Her once vivid green eyes, now filmy turned on me.

"Is he still there?"

She knew exactly what I was seeing.

I looked over, he was still there, smirking.

"Yes." The sound I made was so pathetic, more a whimper than an answer. We had thought he was going away.

She extended her neck, slowly uncoiling the wrinkles and turned to look around the room.

"Edward", her voice hoarse with age "he's not there."

_He is _the voice inside my head insisted as I stared at the form in front of me.

"I am." The dark voice said in nothing more than a whisper.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bella**

_Cold hands. Red eyes. The cold hands holding me tight. Sharp teeth snapping in my face, the red eyes dilated, one hand forces my head to one side, my body's in chills, he's too strong like a cement block around me. _

_Suddenly hot hands are replacing the cool ones, but there is no relief as they slide under my shirt._

"Bells?" Jacob asks in a husky voice.

His long frame is pressed against my back. I feel stirring of him against my thigh.

When I had first met Jake, I had been stunned by his height, now it just seemed ridiculous how his erection would press into my thigh.

My stomach knots as I chew my lip, _maybe if I pretend I'm still asleep_…

"I know you're awake, you breathing is too shallow." His voice sounds hurt.

I turn over slowly taking his hands from beneath my shirt and placing them back by his side.

"I can't. Please." My voice is a whisper. It's hoarse from the terror of the nightmare that I don't tell my husband about.

"I thought you wanted a baby. Bella, babies aren't miracles, they take…" Once again his hot hands were trying to excite me… and failed.

"I don't know what I want." My voice is too quiet for him to hear, as I pull further away from him in our shared bed.

"What did you say Bells?" There is genuine concern in Jake's voice.

I shut my eyes, fighting against his hurt, and slight bitterness. But I've tried to force myself too many times. And tonight I just can't.

"No baby tonight Jake." I hope my voice has enough finality.

Hearing Jake take a deep breath in, I feel his body turn away from me. I feel relief at the cool air suddenly on my skin, replacing his hot russet skin. Suddenly I can breathe again.

**A/N : Soon we will be heading from out of the darkness and into the light. **

**Special thank you to those who put me on alert. The chapters are short, but the updates will be quick. **


	3. Chapter 3

Disclamer: not mine.. but the mentally unstable human Edward unfortunately is.

A/N: AH! My first reviews, thank you lady!

Chapter Three

EPOV

Esme wasn't awake when I rose from my bed. I stood and stretched. My constant companion was nowhere to be seen. My lip rose into an automatic half smile. I listened for stirrings in the house, tried to smell the bacon and eggs that weren't being made.

"Mam?" My voice was barely audible. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I had learned to keep as quiet as possible, and keep speaking to a minimum. I immediately felt horrible, thinking back to when Esme used to try to engage me in any sort of conversation.

I'd make it up to her. I'd go and make her breakfast.

Esme was normally a very early riser, and as I passed her door on the end of the hall, I noticed her face down.

Lightly I went on the stairs. And began making a child's version of a breakfast. I was out of practice of taking care of myself. The egg shells ended up in the eggs, which I scrambled before I realized that Esme did not like scrambled eggs. The toast was burnt, the tea watery.

The tea scalded my hand as I spilled half of the cup while I trudged up the stairs.

She still wasn't awake.

My hand burned.

"Mam, I have a surprise." I sat down on the bed, pushing the tray onto her bedside table , pushing aside her pills, making them rattle onto the floor.

"Mam." I looked at Esme.

"Mam." I shook her. She wasn't responding. I started feeling frustrated why wasn't she answering me.

"Mam, wake up."

"Mam please."

I rolled her over. Grabbing a mirror from her bedside table, I put it under her nose. She wasn't breathing.

Cold. I was so cold. My mum was gone. Carlisle had been cold too when I had found him. But I still had Esme then. She would take care of me, and protect me. Now I had no one.

All alone. With the monster. He wasn't here.

Did he do this?

Could he?

I was angry. It burned. My hand burned.

"Where are you? Did you do this?" My voice was shaky. I was so scared. And angry.

"Show yourself you coward." I hissed the last word. He hissed at me, it only seemed fair.

By the third day, Esme began to smell.

I still made her food. Putting it by her bedside as I had when I was well, and Carlisle was alive. I did not see the monster.

Without Esme, there was no one.

Nothing but empty space and silence. My thoughts. They tormented me.

If one thing came of this, the monster had gone away. For that I was grateful. Until I wasn't.

Nothing in my life had been constant. Why should his disappearance be?

He came back like he always did.

Standing in the doorway. He said nothing. Nor did I.

The neighbor must have called the police. Esme normally checked in with someone.

Lying in the tub on cold water, I heard the pounding, the shouting, I heard kicks at the door and thought that this was the end.

It was the police.

They announced themselves after smashing the door. How polite.

Leaving the tub, I crawled ascended the stairway, in the back room, Carlisle's study and sat. The police searched for me. The neighbour, Mrs. Cope came, and called my name. She told the police she thought I had done this. She told the police that she no longer felt safe. The police said they had heard of me. They said they would put me on TV. They said they would find me. They told Mrs. Cope she needn't be afraid. I would be found and given the help I needed. They would not find me. I would wait, and I would die.

BPOV

Jake was going to leave. I lay in bed and thought this over and over. I didn't want it. But I wanted it so bad it hurt.

"Bella."

I curled further into myself on the bed.

"This isn't permanent." Jake was trying to reassure me. I wasn't reassured and I knew that it was.

"We take some time, and see what's what." I imagined what he looked like, standing there, hands on his hips, with those eyes, those pleading eyes.

I turned to the other side to face him. I owed him that.

I rocked into myself. There was no pleading. There were dark humorless eyes. Sunken cheeks. Blood shot eyes.

I had done this to him. When I met him he was happy. Whatever I had had spread to him, infected him.

"Maybe we even try for that baby." Maybe not.

Even to the end, he wouldn't punish me.

I sat up.

"I loved you. I tried. Hard, Jake really I did." I didn't want to cry.

My eyes burned.

He sat next to me. He was still so beautiful.

"Promise me something. Be happy."

"I hope so."

I dropped my head back and closed my eyes.

I only opened them when I heard the door click.

I couldn't keep him any more.

It was selfless and selfish.

He deserved better. And I deserved worse.

A/N they'll "meet" next chapter. And finally Edward will have dialogue. All that in the head stuff eeekk.

thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

a/n: 3 reviews! Squeee!

Not mine.

Chapter Four

BPOV

When I was small girl, before Jake, before the nightmare and long before I grew up, I used to dream of having a small house that was brightly painted, adorned with exotic flowers and plants, where animals would run free. It would be all mine. I would love this house with such a fierce sense of propriety that when I'd try to draw it, and got it wrong, I'd shred the drawing, knowing that my house would always be better.

I used to dream of a house, that in essence, looked _loved_.

I imagined that it would love me back. In all my dreams, there was love.

And that is how I found myself standing in front of my dream home, on a frosty morning, looking for the missing boy.

A few hours after Jake left, I realized that the TV was still on.

So in my bed, curled into myself I began to stare. Slowly the fog over my eyes began to clear, and that's when I began to watch. And slowly sound came pulsing into the corners of the room, until I saw a photo looping over and over of a man, a boy really that was missing.

Burnt gold hair. Eyes that looked like green beach glass, cloudy in the way that my grandmother's were. Skin so pale, it looked like parchment paper. So like mine. And so young, he looked seventeen. I wondered how old his mother must have been.

When I had first approached the house, I marveled at how empty it all looked. The house, so bright, looked absolutely vacant. The only signs of activity were the footprints in the damp earth, but even they had been worn away by the recent rainfall. The current were shut, like sleeping eyes.

The street was silent.

It chilled me.

What I had expected was to be turned away. I had expected _do not cross_ tape; I had imagined police, reporters, and aid workers, all there handling the situation.

I thought they'd all be here, telling me it was under control. I had expected bustling activity, I had expected noise, and I had expected the impish boy to be sitting on the bench in front of his house.

This was nothing like I expected.

There was no one here.

Stepping softly through the front yard, I realized that this house was already visibly deteriorating, the grass was sticking up in clumps in certain places, and there were flowers mashed into the dirt, their petals fallen and strewn. I saw a window shutter on the left side of the window furthest from me had a small peel in the paint.

With each ripple of the cool May wind, the little piece of paint danced, revealing the dark, natural colour that dwelled below the pretty paint job.

It sounded familiar,

In front of the door I froze, unsure of what to do next. Surely I should knock, but then again they said he wasn't even here. Maybe he wouldn't even answer

I pushed lightly against the door, promising myself if it were locked I would leave.

It opened.

_Into the rabbit hole I fell._

I stepped inside, the darkness of the house contrasting with the bright morning light.

My eyes fell dark as I shut the door behind me.

Feeling blindly with the pads of my finger on the wall beside me, I found a light switch and pushed. The light was dim. Inspecting the switch I realized it was a dimmer. A touch dimmer. Tapping impatiently at it, it did nothing. I began to slide my finger and suddenly the dark room was illuminated with dozens of small lights all over the ceiling.

A quick sweep over the room revealed no one.

I was surprisingly disappointed.

I had genuinely been hoping to find this boy.

Looking at the staircase, I wondered just how much not finding him would kill me.

I wondered if I'd gone crazy.

This was by the far the most extreme thing I'd ever done.

Normal people did not enter dark abandoned houses, looking for strange cloudy eyes boys. Normal people did not ruin others the way I had Jake. Normal people craved the closeness to others that created essential human bonds. Normal people didn't awake with clamped teeth and a sore jaw every single morning. Normal people cried.

So I wasn't normal. Maybe I would find happiness in this acceptance.

Being here panicked me in the most delicious way. I felt alive. The blood in my veins was thrumming my heart like that of a hummingbird.

I didn't know what I'd do when I found him, what condition he'd be in, if he'd want anything to do with me, or maybe he really was dead.

I felt sick as my mind ran amuck with possibilities.

The only other place he could be was the upstairs, this house, like mine had no basement.

I started climbing the dark stairs one by one, trying to set a non-threatening pace.

I repeated again and again in my mind, _steady, steady._

I didn't want him to think I was here to harm the home.

When I reached the top of the stairs, my weight caused the wooden floor to groan loudly and I swerved sharply at the sound.

If I had looked away a second earlier I would have missed it.

The cord was tucked inside of the ceiling of the back room.

There must be something there.

About to approach it, I stopped when I saw the ceiling beginning to shift above me.

My hands were cold and clammy, I held fast to the doorframe, my heart racing. I couldn't look away.

The ceiling turned into stairs. And there he was.

I couldn't look away.

EPOV

When I heard the creak in the floorboards. I snapped.

This person was alone. This person was most likely here to pillage.

In the days that had passed I had identified three different types of visitors, first the reporter, never alone, always talking conspiratorially with the camera man, hoping to catch an unannounced shot of me; second, the social worker slash good Samaritan they knew my name, and wanted to help me, and third the police, the easiest to identify because they announced themselves.

The fourth I had not heard, but I had been expecting. The thief. Their even footfalls on the steps lead me to believe that they were hoping that if anyone was here they would hear these steps and show themselves or hide. And for the first time in nearly a week I decided to show myself.

_He _had not shown himself, granting me the peace to mourn in solitude, for that I was thankful.

But before he left, he promised he would be back. I would have thought that this was him, but the he was never one for heavy footfalls.

Using my legs to maneuver myself in sitting position was proving useless. I planted my palms flat against the floor and shifted my legs so they were pointed straight in front of me, the white hot burn in them caused my eyes to water.

Standing took some time as the pins and needles and numbness began to subside.

When I felt sure of my standing, kicking around enough, I decided to face whatever await me.

Giving the stairs a hearty push they began to descend, hoping on the top step I began to walk with a limp down the stairs.

Brown. Everything was brown.

So warm and inviting.

Long brown hair, and wide brown eyes.

And skin… just like me.

So pale.

I was sure that if I took her hand, they would match hand in hand.

She didn't look like a thief, or a good Samaritan (no pamphlets, no fanny pack).

She just stared.

Spots appeared on her chest, like the spotting of cow's skin. Deep red.

Ducking under her low arm that still held to the wall I walked to the bathroom to drink some water. My throat burned.

My voice would be a croak.

When I turned off the tap I found her hovering at the staircase.

"You're in your nightgown." I tried to clear my throat, but it was as much of a croak as I had expected.

"Oh." Her eyebrows shot up, and her mouth made the shape of an "o". She looked down, and the cow spots that had disappeared reappeared.

I hadn't meant to embarrass her.

Then suddenly I realized that she was the one in my house. In her nightgown. Unannounced.

"Why exactly are you here?" I squinted my eyes at her and all her browness.

"I thought you were dead." Her mouth raised into a half smile as she looked at me.

"I'm not." I crossed my arms, suddenly afraid of maybe what a psycho this girl was.

"No, your not." And with that, she revealed two rows of bright white teeth in what appeared to be halfway between a grin and a grimace.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

BPOV

He was here. Standing in front of me. Asking me what I was doing here.

Being in front of him now, I felt a tug. Him asking me what I was doing here meant he was okay. I was so glad I think I tried to smile.

Just to make sure I told him that I'd thought he was dead. And much to my pleasure he assured me he wasn't.

Standing there smiling at him, or trying my best to, I realized he was watching me.

He seemed unable to make out what I was. He looked at my as if I was from another planet. When he looked at my lips, and his lips ghosted into a smile, I felt my feet itch to step forward.

I wanted to touch him. I frowned, and my mouth drooped.

He, watching me so closely, instantly dropped his smile.

I lowered my gaze, and took in the state of him. I really _looked _at him. He was so gaunt. Looking so haunted. His pants hung from his hips and I could see a small hip bone jutting out.

Suddenly I felt him looking and me. We both looked nervously at one another. I didn't know what to say now that I was here.

His eyes kept blinking, but with each blink the reaction time was slower and slower.

"Are you tired?" My voice a whisper, I was suddenly too aware of the quiet of the house.

"Yes." His eyes were closed.

Again I felt this odd pulsing inside. The tug that I had felt before seemed so much stronger. I should probably go. I felt seconds from the inevitable rejection. I turned to go quietly to the top of the stairs.

My foot hovered over the top step.

My eyes connected with his. They had turned red rimmed, and a hazy green. His eyes were so cold that I felt frozen on the spot.

"You're leaving." His eyes closed again. There was a wrinkle in his brow. It wasn't a question.

"Well…I just thought…" I didn't know what to do in this situation. I hadn't had a conversation with another person since Jake left, and even before then I'd never known what to do socially. So I stood there, awkward. Waiting.

"Go." It was a bark of a command.

I had been dismissed. Not even a goodbye.

What had I expected? To be befriended by the beautiful ghost boy. To nurse him back to health? To finally find someone… That was so stupid to be thinking. I was glad he was okay, that was why I came. Now I know, and I never have to come back.

Despite my rationale, I still felt my body prick with embarrassment as I descended the stairs and left the house. It wasn't until I felt the hot tears on my face that I realized I was crying.

What had I wanted from him?

I didn't know. But I didn't want this.

EPOV

She was standing there with a wonky smile. So she wasn't a smiler either.

Seeing her so happy to see me, alive, apparently, I had to smile back.

She looked so tired under her smile. The tiny traces of blue under her eyes reminded me of what I must look like. Suddenly still looking at me she frowned and all expression left her face.

Instantly my face fell. I couldn't do anything right.

I was so sleepy looking at her. Something was there that I hadn't felt before a stranger feeling of slumber fell over me. I could barely keep my eyes open.

The blinks that I was trying to force were becoming for frequent and my eyelids fought to close.

Suddenly it was dark and I heard a creek. Opening my eyes I saw her leaving.

Her and her browness and the calm slumber that she had brought with her were going.

What had I expected? Her to take care of me, fight off the monsters for me?

I thought of all that lurked in the shadows of the house and suddenly the fog of having her around slowly started to clear, and I realized she was going. And it was best.

"You're leaving." I couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice. But somehow it came out sharper than I had intended. Her brown eyes looked down. She looked slightly uncomfortable at being caught out.

I heard her beginning to mumble. I'm sure it was about people to get back to. A life to get back to. Something that I wouldn't know, _couldn't _know anything about.

"Go." It wasn't nice but I couldn't bare the thought of someone else leaving me, even if I'd only just met her.

My eyes felt so hot, as I watched her duck low and run down the stairs.

She was right to run.

But it was still so painful to lurk to the window and watch her retreating form.

BPOV

After the embarrassment began to fade, hours later I began to feel a spark of something. It was a little bit of righteous indignation. Yes, I had gone to his house uninvited.. But I had good intentions in being there, and I'd been dismissed like a naughty child. It felt good to feel so much, to feel so vivacious it was almost as exciting as when I watched him descend those stairs, almost as if in slow motion.

The spark quickly fizzled though, as I turned it over again and again in my mind.

He looked so gaunt, so tired and so sad. His mother had died. He had no family. He had been hiding in the attic for the past few days. He was bound to be erratic. But there was something more than this simple justification that resonated with me.

I knew what it was like to keep people at an arms length.

To keep them away. To hide. It was easier to be alone. I knew that.

You didn't need to keep secrets when you were alone. - they weren't secrets anymore - just scars.

And that is how I once again found myself tentatively in front of Edward Cullen's house.

With a cake.

And a lasagna.

And a liter of milk, in case he didn't have any.

And forks, knives, spoons, classes, plates and basically a dinner for two.

Looking down at my bag I realized that this was much more than loneliness. I had been lonely.

This was about need. I needed to know that there may be quite possibly someone out there as lonely, and broken as me.

I knocked. It was the fifth time. I tried the door, it was open. He hadn't locked it after my intrusion.

I flicked on the light next to the door, noting how much more at home I felt in the surroundings now that I'd been here before.

I climbed the steps two at a time.

My foot only caught once. When I was almost up the stairs I saw him.

He was standing at the top of the stairs, his arms were crossed.

"You're back." It wasn't a question.

"Well, actually I'm Bella." I tried to do my wonky smile again but he looked impassive.

"Bella," He took a moment to pronounce my name. "You're back." There was much more enthusiasm in his eyes now. Like he couldn't believe it.

"I brought dinner." He licked his lips.

I was glad I'd brought the whole lasagna .

He looked at his shoes.

"I'm Edward."

"It's um.. nice to meet you." I suddenly felt shy.

The bag began to weigh in my hands as we both looked anywhere but each other,

"Did you want to eat downstairs?"

He was staring past me.

"Yes."

I stood there.

"Well then, you'd better turn around."

a/n thank you for reading, and if you'd like, drop me a review.. I'd love to know what you think

xo


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